Year Ten

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Even after the third baby started to ween, your milk supply kept up. You pumped and donated, and Namjoon took a little taste. You never stopped breastfeeding for years. Your lactation consultant was thrilled with how consistent your supply was. You told her how Joon kept you stimulated and really made him blush. She told him he was the world's best dad.

And he was! He maxed out his parental leave, took all the doctors' appointments, played, read books, made snacks and lunches, kissed scrapes. He was an incredible daddy.

And Namjoon loved your belly post-pregnancies. Sometimes strangers thought you were pregnant, trying to give you a seat on the bus. You would look down, embarrassed, and he'd say, "Oh no, some people work hard for this body but my wife is just naturally gorgeous."

He loved how different your body was after the kids. He loved your huge nipples and areolas, even the sagginess was hot to him. You once wondered out loud if you should get a breast lift and he made a noise like a wounded animal.

"Of course it's completely up to you-" his classic stumbling over his words when he was flustered, "but if you could only see how much sexier you are now."

You believed him.

After the third pregnancy, the third birth, the third year of late nights and early mornings alongside two toddlers, you sat Namjoon down to talk.

He cleared the sea of toys so you could both sit on the couch.

"We've talked before about whether to have more kids, and as much as I love how much you would love a fourth-"

"-Or a fifth!" he joked.

"- I am done, Namjoon. I'm tired but it's not just that. I want to stop sharing my body with the kids. I want my body to be just for us again. Like when we first met."

"I had a feeling and I thought about it, too. I agree completely. I love our family just as we are. We are so lucky, baby," he smiled.

"I love our family, and I love you," you teared up.

His warm, supportive smile turned into a smirk, though. "Now that you mention it, we've been sharing, but I have a previous commitment from you about your body. You told me to declare you mine." He was running his hand through your hair, pulling your head back firmly. He pulled your shirt up and licked from your belly up to your chest.

You gasped, "Yessss, yes, that's what happened. Yes, keep going," as he nudged his fingers between your legs.

"You want to be exclusively mine again, baby? My breasts, my belly, my hips, my pussy?" he taunted you, and started to pull down your pants.

"Oh please, Namjoon, please make me yours again," you moaned. He sunk between your legs and pushed his tongue inside to make you squeal, making circles on your clit with his fingers, taking his time. You sank into the sensation for a while, but as you came close to your climax you rubbed your pussy into his face until you came in his mouth. He chuckled and it gave you an aftershock.

Then he leapt up to straddle your ribs. "I'm going to fuck your tits now." He grabbed a nearby bottle of baby oil, because that was your life now, and massaged it all over your chest, making you writhe as you were still coming down from that orgasm.

"Fuck my breasts, Namjoon. I want to feel you all over me."

He whimpered and moaned, "So soft, so good. Mine, mine."

You'd both sleep better from now on.

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